Tool
by rib
Summary: MysterionKenny. It's selfcest.


This guy's pretty damn clever. Sometimes he gets too damn clever and I get into trouble with him. Like that time he remembered me. That was shit. He didn't yell at me. He got real quiet for a while before saying I'd grow up to be a psychopath and maybe a killer. He said it wasn't my fault. He said it was those fucking bastards. It still hurt, though. He got all gay and hugged me 'cause he knew I didn't want him to see me crying and shit. The asshole left me asleep in the alley.

He scares me sometimes. That one night made me realize that the guy was kinda nuts. If someone could remember me, understand, and not freak the fuck out, then they must be a bit crazy, you know? He said I should take a video of one time and show it to everyone, and he changed his mind all by himself because he realized that I did that already, last year. It was weird, because he wasn't even there that time. He told me about other times, and I don't remember him being there.

I don't like this guy. He knows too much. He knows that I'm just a little boy who plays hero sometimes because I'm stupid and scared. He knows I'm still trying, after all this time, to fix something that I can't. He says I've got the most pathetic eyes, and he can see it even when I'm laughing with Stan and Kyle—he says I'm sad. Sad, stupid, scared little boy who's a bit sick in the head.

Sick. He says I'm sick. He says it's not my fault. Every time, he says it's the bastards. Maybe he's the same as me. Maybe he's sick too, and he's not talking to me. No—he's talking to himself, and I'm not the sick one. He is.

He talks with this stupid fake voice, and he wears this stupid hooded cape. He uses a stupid made-up name and he runs around playing hero. He's so stupid. He's so fucking stupid, and I don't like him.

I'm letting him kiss me 'cause I feel sorry for the poor shit. Hell, it's out of pity that I'm letting him jack me off against the back of the only bus stop in the town that's actually lit. He bites my lip too hard and I can taste blood. I squirm under him but he's stronger than he looks, and he's pinned my wrists to the post. His rubber gloves are cold against my skin. The freak keeps rubbing my wrists. I can imagine them bruising already. He lets up his grips every once in a while but when he regains his annoying iron hold, it's abrupt and my shoulder blades knock up against the cold metal.

His hand is suddenly off my dick and he pulls off his glove with his teeth. His fingers fly back to Kenny Jr. and I nearly melt at the warmth. I groan into his cloaked shoulder, hips thrusting into his strokes. He's still got his fake voice on when he laughs into my ear and tells me to beg for it.

For all this psychotic freak is worth, he gives a damn good hand job. "Make me cum," I say. It comes out a bit angry. "Fucking make me, Mysterion."

After that I can't get words out anymore because this guy _does_ know how. He lets go of my wrists and my arms slide down around his neck. He bites off his other glove and cups my balls. He runs his fingers down the bottom side of my cock and thumbs the head slowly. I can feel pre-cum pressing against his finger. He laughs more.

I breathe hard against his cape, and it feels like a blanket. It feels familiar and I wish both of us could be wrapped up in it. (I bet we could, we're both too fucking skinny.) It's smothering me and I say again, "make me cum, Mysterion," and I mean it this time. Once I hit that high—once I'm grunting, cumming into his hand, I'll forget the way he smells. (Like my stupid mattress at home, like somewhere I could fall asleep.) But then he's gone, just like that, and I'm freezing all alone with a bleeding lip and a boner about to shoot.

I reach down and tug on myself until my fingers are sticky with my own gunk. I slide down the frozen pole, burning my lower back. The icy sidewalk bites into my ass and my bare thighs because I didn't pull my pants up. I wipe my hands on my jeans. I rub my eyes and wait for the drunk driver down the street to crash into me.

Some hero. That Mysterion kid's a tool.


End file.
